Didn't Know
by falsealarm715
Summary: Mary comes home drunk and attempts to give Emma a piece of her mind. Emma/Mary friendship. Mentions of Mary/David, Mary/Dr. Whale. Spoilers for "The Shepherd".


**Spoilers:** Episode 106, "The Shepherd"  
**Disclaimer: **The only thing I own is the plot.  
**Author's Note:** I'm uploading fic I've been hoarding on other sites. This is definitely not my last foray in the OUAT fandom.

Mary stumbles into the apartment just past 3 am with the wind at her back and the taste of vodka still sharp on her tongue. Her body is screaming for bed but she ignores her aching muscles and instead heads directly for Emma's room, her tiny frame struggling against gravity the farther she gets.

She loses a shoe and her purse by the time she makes it to Emma's door where she stands unsteadily on her feet for a few seconds, fighting her instinct to let the woman sleep.

"You said go," Mary finally slurs as she grips the door frame with both hands.

It had been Emma that gave her the courage to meet David, to go out on that shaky limb and hope for the best. And she did, she hoped and she wished and she prayed and David had shown up with his brilliant smile and his bright eyes. He'd shown up and he'd broken Mary's heart, broken her hopes and her wishes and her prayers.

When Emma doesn't stir Mary takes a careful step forward, her hands blindly reaching for anything in front of her to keep her upright. "You said go," she repeats, her voice louder.

Emma murmurs something monosyllabic as she turns over to face Mary, her eyes half open as she attempts to figure out what's going on. "Mary?" She croaks in a sleep-laden voice as sits up carefully and turns on her bedside lamp just in time to see Mary continue her stumbling towards the foot of the bed. "Why do you smell like you bathed in alcohol?" Emma continues as she looks from Mary's white knuckle grip on her bed frame to her face.

She had been sad earlier, so monumentally shattered and Dr. Whale had been sweet to her. He had an easy smile and he laughed loudly and bought Mary drink after drink, encouraging her to loosen up. Once the drinks started to kick in she laughed with him and they took turns quietly making fun of the bar patrons until Mary realized she couldn't feel her tongue, until she remembered that David hadn't chosen her.

"You said go because he chose me," Mary's voice cracks at every word, her eyes accusing and red-rimmed. "You said that it was all I could ask for. You said he chose me." Her voice never gets above a whisper but there's an inherent anger and a silent sadness behind every syllable and she can see Emma's eyes soften just a touch more as Mary's grip on the bed frame slackens.

Her goodbye with Dr. Whale had been sloppy, stolen kisses in the alley next to the bar and his hands gripping her waist, pulling her hard against him. A car horn had proved enough of a distraction for Dr. Whale that Mary could pull free from him after only a few minutes. She'd wandered off back to her apartment then, wobbling down the street and on the verge of tears whose cause she couldn't pinpoint. By the time she'd made it back home she was so emotionally exhausted all she wanted was for someone to tell her everything was going to be alright and the only someone she had was Emma.

Mary quiets and stares Emma down with one last pleading look before she breaks, tears streaming down her cheeks as her limbs give way.

Emma is up and out of bed before Mary hits the ground, her arms wrapping around the woman's back to hold her upright. Mary collapses against her heavily and claws at Emma's back trying to find something to hold on to as she buries her head in the blonde's neck.

"You said he chose me," Mary says again as Emma tightens her grip on the crying woman, pulling her closer and leaning her cheek against the top of Mary's head.

"I'm sorry," Emma says quietly, "everything's gonna be alright."

When she'd walked into the apartment Mary wanted to blame Emma for everything, for David's reaction and her naivety, but now, with her tears staining the blonde's skin, she knows that the only fault was her own.

As Emma holds onto her, Mary feels this overwhelming sense of calm rush over her. It's a feeling she's had before with Emma and often enough that she's likened it to a wholeness, like Emma is something she hadn't known she'd been missing. It's similar to what she feels when she's with David, except she's been looking for someone like him, she knows he's something she's been missing. Somehow Emma is more than him, she isn't just something Mary's been missing but something Mary didn't even know she wanted.

After a few minutes of choked sobs, Emma slowly backs them towards the bed and when the back of Mary's knees hit the mattress she loosens her grip on Emma's back and Emma slips to Mary's side as they sit down together.

"He went back to her," Mary says softly as she stares down at her lap. "He got his memory back and he said he had to honor his feelings for Kathryn. He said it was the right thing to do."

She knows it was the right thing to do, it's what she would do if she were in his place but the tears come again anyway and Emma puts an arm around Mary, rubbing her back gently.

Mary sniffles and laughs softly to herself. "Dr. Whale kissed me," she says as she wipes her eyes on her cardigan and kicks off her other shoe. "He found me at the diner and we went to the bar and he bought me drinks and he tried to kiss me."

"I take it he didn't succeed?" Emma questions as she reaches into her bedside drawer for a tissue that she hands to Mary.

Mary wipes at her nose and the soft blush on her cheeks gives Emma her answer.

Emma nods her head, "he did? Well," she starts before looking down to watch Mary fidget with her crumpled tissue, her hands shaking, "he's not bad looking," she offers with a soft smile as Mary looks up at her.

"He's got nice eyes," Mary answers with a smile of her own.

It's times like these when Mary knows that Emma is something she couldn't stand to lose now that she has her. Emma's soft smile and open heart remind her of her father sometimes and in some off-handed way Emma almost reminds her of David. She's got his charm and his bright eyes but there's this steel that Mary hasn't yet figured out how to get around.

Emma slides her hand down Mary's back and clasps her side gently, "Let's get you to bed."

"Can I-," Mary starts hesitantly and stops, choosing to look back down to the tissue in her lap rather than continue. The calm is sometimes stunted with Emma, it comes in waves and the length always varies; there is no continuity and no way to predict anything that Emma does or is willing to do. Mary knows what she wants to ask could be entirely out of Emma's comfort zone and since Emma has already comforted her thus far Mary is afraid to push for anything more.

"Yea," Emma answers with a soft smile as she stands to peel the comforter back from her bed.

Mary smiles hopefully and wipes at her eyes one last time as she watches Emma crawl into the bed and pat the space next to her. Mary follows and lies tentatively next to Emma, their arms just barely touching until Emma whispers a quiet, "come here," and slips an arm around Mary's shoulders. Mary cuddles in close to the blonde and turns on her side to wrap an arm around Emma's waist before hiccupping loudly, the spasm shaking the both of them.

"Good thing tomorrow is Saturday," Emma says with a low chuckle.

Mary groans, "I don't even like vodka," before she hugs Emma tighter and closes her eyes, willing the hiccups to disappear.

Minutes later, when the hiccups have finally gone and Emma is breathing evenly beside her, Mary silently thanks the universe and Henry Mills for bringing Emma into her life.


End file.
